


This Soft Space

by aerClassic



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: M/M, Non AU, Pillow riding, Really Inexcusable Perversion, Warning for Hongjoong's Filthy Mouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-07 07:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19204843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerClassic/pseuds/aerClassic
Summary: (when all of my edges are hard)Between L.A. and Chicago, Hongjoong notices a trend.





	This Soft Space

 

The flight from Korea to Los Angeles takes so much out of him that, as soon as he and Yunho unlock the door to their shared room, Hongjoong claims one bed for himself and passes right the fuck out. He'll regret it later when the jetlag and his screwed internal clock decide to battle it out before their full schedule of filming the next day but, god, he’s so _tired_ and the bed is so _soft_. At some point Yunho decides to join him and they wake up hours later thanks to San throwing himself bodily on top of their impromptu cuddle session yelling about steak like he’s swapped bodies with Seonghwa.

Point is, Hongjoong made the mistake of taking a four hour nap and now it’s two in the morning, he can’t fucking sleep, and he’s acutely aware of the abortive little mewling noises Yunho is making in the other bed barely three feet away. They’ve never shared a space this close together without the other members as a buffer so Hongjoong isn’t sure if this is something San puts up with on a nightly basis or if this is just Yunho having a post-flight wet dream.

Hongjoong stares unseeing at his laptop, sweat starting to curl the hair at his nape. He’s propped his computer in his lap over his knees to hide the - really painful at this point- erection straining at the seams of his sweatpants, too afraid to try jerking off quick and dirty in case Yunho wakes up.

Yunho lets loose another tiny trembling moan.

Hongjoong nervously ups the volume on his music program (it’s not playing anything) and doesn’t breathe for a long moment.

Yunho turns underneath the hotel comforter to face him - eyes still closed and face slack, if a little flushed - with his pillow held between his thighs and clutched needily to his chest. He yawns a little in his apparent sleep, smacks his mouth a few times and drops back into dreamland.

The room goes blessedly quiet except for the low sound of Yunho’s slight snoring.

Hongjoong breathes a sigh of relief, is just getting ready to will his dick to calm down long enough for him to get some work done when Yunho starts back up again. It’s a testament to how sturdy Apple products are because the case doesn’t even dent when Hongjoong slams his forehead down against the edge of it at Yunho’s staccato “ah-ah-ah” whimpering at him from across the room.

‘ _Please just get off and shut the fuck up_ ,’ Hongjoong pleads silently in his head, ‘ _Jerking off the first night here was not in the game plan._ ’

Unfortunately for him, telepathy still doesn’t work, or even _exist_ for that matter, and his silent communication goes unheard and ignored. Hongjoong has only just convinced himself he’s going to be okay enough to power through the next however many minutes it takes for Yunho to orgasm when he hears -

“Hongjoong-ah,” Yunho sighs, hips making barely there twitching thrusts against the pillow.

“Oh fuck me,” Hongjoong hisses giving up, slaps his laptop closed and makes a beeline for the bathroom before Yunho says anything else incriminating and Hongjoong makes a horrifying mess in his underwear. The door doesn’t have a lock (thanks sketchy ass Los Angeles hotel!) so Hongjoong shoves a towel against the bottom of the door frame, both to help muffle the noise and to keep it from being opened too easily, and turns the shower on full blast.

The spray is still lukewarm and awful when he steps in. Hongjoong takes a moment to glare down at his traitorous dick, mutters a shaking, “Sometimes I really hate you,” before wrapping a hand around himself and makes a point not to think about Yunho’s mouth.

He fails almost immediately. 

 

**\--------------------------------**

 

“You look like shit.”

“Thank you, hyung. I knew I could come to you for a self esteem boost.” Hongjoong lifts his eyes heavenward while Seonghwa snickers. “I didn’t get a ton of sleep last night.”

Seonghwa puts down the camera they’re using for a behind the scenes compilation and raises his brows. “Why not?”

 _Because I have big gay crush, masturbated to the sound of Yunho’s wetdream and stayed awake too long from the guilt last night_ is what Hongjoong doesn’t say. Instead he avoids eye contact and slumps down onto the hotel bench with a muttered, “Reasons.”

Seonghwa joins him on the bench, leaning into his side so he can try to tuck his head up underneath Hongjoong’s chin like a needy cat even though he’s way too big. “What _kind_ of reasons?”

Hongjoong knows that tone. That’s Seonghwa’s patented ‘butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth, I will keep all of your secrets and Yeosang/San/Wooyoung will not hear a peep out of me in the next thirty minutes I _swear_ ’ that Hongjoong has learned the hard way not to trust.

At all.

 _Ever_.

Seonghwa makes a questioning noise when Hongjoong licks his own palm and, before his hyung can think to move out of the way, swipes the wet hand lightning fast down the length of Seonghwa’s face. While his hyung is busy hissing and aggressively scrubbing the saliva from his nose, Hongjoong yawns. “Mind exactly _all_ of your business.”

“You wiped _spit_! On my _face_!” Seonghwa sobs into the gap of his shirt collar. “Oh my god, is this what having your tongue on me is like?”

“Little bit yeah,” Hongjoong laughs while pulling up his saved playlists. “What did we learn?”

“That you’re _disgusting_!”

Hongjoong doesn’t look up from his phone to blow Seonghwa a kiss. “Love you, hyung-nim.”

“Fucking brat,” Seonghwa glares at him before distracting himself with filming Yeosang just coming down from their room. “Yeosang-ah, my beautiful, most treasured dongsaeng-”

Yeosang is having none of it, just places his bags on the bench and presses his hands into his hips. “What did you do?”

“Wha-” Seonghwa drops his filming angle again, “Why do you think I did anything?”

“Because Hongjoong-hyung looks smug and you look like a drowned rat.” Hongjoong watches Yeosang roll his eyes at Seonghwa’s wobbling pout, reaching over to smooth the side of Seonghwa’s hair that’s been mussed from his desperate shirt rubbing. “Hongjoong-hyung, what did this one do now?”

“He was being nosy,” Hongjoong sniffs. He’s waffling between listening to EDEN’s latest and Michael Jackson’s Greatest Hits, unsure if he wants to listen to something that’s going to make him emotional or...something that’s going to make him emotional, shit. Maybe he should be pulling up Mingi’s playlist.

“All I did was ask why you didn’t sleep last night and you wiped your spit on my nose,” Seonghwa moves to stand behind Yeosang as if he’s trying to turn their group member into a human shield. “Some of it landed on my _mouth_.”

“Oh dude,” Yeosang scrunches his face up, “Hongjoong-hyung that’s nasty.” Seonghwa chimes in with a tiny, “Listen to Yeosang-ie!” over his shoulder.

“ _You’re_ nasty,” Hongjoong immaturely grumbles back, gives up trying to find something to listen to in favor of glancing around the hotel lobby. “Whatever. By the way, where is everyone?”

“Wooyoung and Jongho texted me to let me know they’re on the way to bully San and Mingi into getting ready,” Yeosang attempts to shake off Seonghwa’s lanky arms trying to wrap around his middle, actually has to slap at the knuckles gripping tight against his navel until Seonghwa whines from the sting and lets go. “You know how lazy those two can be.”

Seonghwa is busy pitifully blowing on his knuckles - as if they’re really hurt and it’s not just a guilt trip to get Yeosang to kiss them better - when Yunho makes his way down from their room.

Hongjoong had actually meant to wake him up before he left so they could come down together, but as soon as he got close enough to Yunho’s bed the guilt and the shame came crashing over him in a cold wave. Like a coward he’d only left a tiny note from the pad in the hotel drawer to let him know Hongjoong had gone ahead.

Seeing him now is like a punch to the solar plexus. Hongjoong feels like 'I get off to Yunho's wet dreams' is stamped in glaring neon across his forehead.

“Yunho! Come yell at Hongjoong for me, it sounds worse coming from you,” Seonghwa calls out.

Yunho gives them all a wide-eyed confused stare complete with slightly open mouth, obvious from the shine that he’s just applied a liberal amount of lip balm. Hongjoong’s eye twitches. _Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, dirty bad go away thoughts_ -

“Why are you yelling at hyung? What did you do?”

“Hah! Fuck you, bitch, Yunho is on my side!” Hongjoong crows, stands up to hook his arms around Yunho’s neck in mocking celebration at Seonghwa’s pissy expression. For his part, Yunho only winds his arms around Hongjoong’s waist with an excited laugh, swings them around a few times just because he can to the sounds of outrage.

Yunho stops twirling them to prop his chin on Hongjoong’s head. “Seriously though, what’s happening? What did I miss?”  

“Hongjoong spit on me.” Seonghwa tells him, childish and sulky cuddled against Yeosang’s back even though Yeosang is still thwarting his attempts at an actual backhug. “I was just trying to be a concerned hyung and he _spit_ on me.”

Yunho is really warm. Hongjoong blinks slow against the cotton of his shirt. He could probably go to sleep standing up if his dongsaeng kept him held close like this without moving for just a few more minutes. Hongjoong is almost half asleep when Yunho pokes his cheek. “Why did you spit on Seonghwa?”

“Because I could,” Hongjoong frowns at the loss of body heat when Yunho makes to shift away from him, whining as he tries to shove his hands into his dongsaeng’s pockets for a better grip. “Get back here, you’re warm and I wanna nap.”

“You _just_ woke up.”

“I’m aware,” Hongjoong huffs. Behind them, Seonghwa and Yeosang are eerily silent. Too silent. The kind of silent that means his roommate is plotting something dastardly. “Stop moving or I’ll spit on you too.”

Probably not the smartest thing that’s ever come out of his mouth considering Seonghwa and Yeosang are making stifled choking sounds seemingly directed at Hongjoong’s back. He shoves his face harder into Yunho’s chest to conceal the red tint in his cheeks.

“Careful, hyung,” Yeosang says, voice thin and reedy from laughing too hard, “He might like that too much.”

Yunho’s fingertips dig hard against his hips. Hongjoong can’t bring himself to look at him, either.

“If we leave now I think we can still make it as a duo, Yunho.”

Yunho’s grip is still fluttering between too tight and barely there, but his answer is a sweet, “Whatever you want to do, I’m with you.”

 

**\--------------------------------**

 

Concert number one goes off with several hitches but it was still a concert, _their concert_ , and Hongjoong feels drunk from the energy of the crowd. Everyone else seems to be too tired to really do anything once they get shuttled back to the hotel except Yunho, who can’t seem to stand still for the two minutes it takes for the elevator to make it to their floor.

They set up a vlive after their respective showers and somewhere in the middle, after Yunho declared himself a baby for the nth time and Hongjoong has skipped over a few horrifyingly suggestive comments, Hongjoong almost suffers a minor mental breakdown on camera.

Hongjoong doesn’t ask for much: a stable career, love from his group members, late night snacks from the managers when they decide to take pity on him, maybe a kiss from a cute boy in the not-so-distant future. Somewhere down the long and arduous journey of his life, Hongjoong must have royally pissed off a higher power because this... _this_ is just cruel.

 _This_ is Yunho wearing a couple shirt.

Hongjoong is going to _die_ because Yunho is wearing a couple shirt and clutching two pillows between his legs, staring up at him dazed and slack mouthed.

They've just finished filming, energy finally working its way out of their systems to the point Hongjoong thinks they could probably go to sleep without much effort. He'd actually been trying to explain some idea he'd had for the next concert in Dallas when Yunho started spacing out.

“Yunho, hey,” Hongjoong snaps his fingers in front of Yunho’s nose. “Were you even listening to me?”

“Ah sorry, hyung-nim.” Yunho scrubs a hand bashfully through his hair, cheeks so pink it makes Hongjoong want to bite them. “Repeat it for me?”

“Nah,” Hongjoong nudges him with an elbow. “You’re probably overtired, just go to sleep already.”

“No, no, no, what were you saying? I’ll pay attention this time. I promise.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Hongjoong laughs, reaches out to swipe a hand affectionately through Yunho’s fringe. “I’m going to do my contractually required skincare routine. Leave a lamp on for me.”

Yunho makes an agreeing hum and flops boneless onto the bed he'd claimed for himself. Before he can lose his nerve, Hongjoong swoops down to land a wet kiss to his cheek with an obnoxious ‘mwah!’ He doesn’t stick around long enough to see Yunho’s reaction as he speedwalks into the bathroom and gently pushes the door shut.

Why management thought a thirty minute skincare regimen was necessary, Hongjoong will never know. When he finally makes it back into the room, Yunho makes a hasty retreat behind the bathroom door, bedding thrown sloppily back over the pillows he’d been gripping before Hongjoong left - they look mashed and dented, like Yunho had them in a death grip the entire length of Hongjoong’s routine.

Their positioning makes something finally click into place in Hongjoong’s brain.

No.

No way.

Hongjoong stares at them, slumped against his own bed before his legs can give out, and flushes straight down to his toenails. _Fuck_. He wants to see that for himself so _bad_. The sound of the shower cutting on has Hongjoong covering his mouth on an affected groan - _god_ , what if Yunho is in there because he made a mess of himself while riding the hideous hotel pillow?

It takes less than three minutes for Hongjoong to make a mess of his own hand, gasps of pleasure held back by a palm slapped over his mouth while Yunho stands under the spray of water, oblivious.

 

**\----------------------**

 

It’s close to one in the morning after their second concert, Hongjoong is just barely on the edge of sleep when he hears the unmistakable sound of the whisper of sheets moving with the shifting of his dongsaeng’s hips and Yunho trying to muffle his erratic breathing into his mattress. Hongjoong listens, air stalling in his lungs while arousal churns hot and urgent in his gut. Yunho makes the mistake of moaning too loud, the sound of his hips slowed to a stop in his obvious panic, and Hongjoong thinks to himself, ‘ _Oh, that is_ **_it_ ** _. That is just fucking_ **_it_ ** _. I am at my absolute limit_.’

“Yunho, I swear to god if you don’t fucking stop,” In his periphery, Hongjoong can just make out Yunho startling hard, upper body popping up from his bedding and resolutely stares at the ceiling so he doesn’t have to look at Yunho’s embarrassed, attractively flushed face, “I’m going to come over there and help.”

Yunho doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything or make any kind of noise except for the hush of breath wheezing through his open mouth. Hongjoong keeps his eyes locked on the popcorn ceiling above them, heart thumping hard against his ribs and fear sweat beading behind his knees. He’s just about to laugh, to call it a joke - an awkward moment between friends and nothing more, ha ha so fun - when Yunho sucks in a deep breath and chokes, “ _Please_.”

The ugly floral hotel comforter goes flying in Hongjoong’s haste to cross the gap between their beds. Yunho reaches out to meet him half-way, fingers trembling against his cheeks as he brings Hongjoong’s face down to place a tender kiss to his mouth completely at odds with the desperation zinging through Hongjoong’s veins.

Hongjoong closes his eyes, revels in the feel of Yunho’s soft lips moving gently against his own for a moment before taking the initiative to lick into his mouth. Yunho tastes like toothpaste, like mint and fluoride and mouthwash, and a bit like every good decision Hongjoong has ever made in his life.

Hongjoong keeps their mouths together as he slides forward to straddle Yunho’s hips. He rubs his hands on either side of the long line of Yunho’s neck just to feel the muscles pulled tight, glides his fingers down and down until he can work them back up and under Yunho’s shirt to get it out of the way. His dongsaeng whines at the loss of contact when Hongjoong breaks away from their kiss to ask, “What do you want me to do?”

Yunho’s answer gets caught up in the shirt when Hongjoong tugs it over his head, so he repeats, “Want you to fuck me.”

Hongjoong curses, hips jerking forward almost of their own volition, “Tease.”

“Not a tease,” Yunho bites against the slope of Hongjoong’s shoulder and sucks a mean mark against the pulsing vein at Hongjoong’s throat. “I’d be so good for you, fuck me.”

“I would,” Hongjoong’s eyes flutter shut when Yunho bucks up to rub their still clothed erections together, “I would do that in a heartbeat but we don’t have anything here.”

Yunho grinds his hips upwards again whining, “I have lotion in my suitcase.”

Tempting. Hongjoong stifles a laugh into Yunho’s neck, “Lotion is not a good substitute for lube and condoms, baby.” The hands around Hongjoong’s waist spasm at the nickname and he smirks. “Next time, I promise.” He backs up enough to place a short wet kiss to Yunho’s cheek. “Right now I want to watch what you’ve been doing behind my back for the last two weeks.”

His dongsaeng goes rigid. Hongjoong soothes his palms down over his chest, making sure to scrape a nail over each nipple and tickles down over the rise and fall of Yunho’s abdominal muscles, shifts out of Yunho’s lap to stand at the edge of the bed again before he can be pulled back in. “Don’t get shy on me, Yunho.”

Yunho stares up at him, chest heaving. “You’re not weirded out?”

“Yah,” Hongjoong grabs one of Yunho’s hands and places it against his sleep shorts over his throbbing hard-on. “Does this feel like I’m weirded out?”

Yunho’s fingers are long and soft and perfect when they curl into a loose fist around his erection. Hongjoong has to breathe heavily through his nose to keep from making a shameful noise. “I guess not.”

“Good,” He has to grab Yunho’s wrist again when he gets too enthusiastic about the dick touching, the burn of cotton against the tip almost too rough and too good in equal measure. Yunho’s mouth is still just as sweet and wet when Hongjoong dips down to kiss him again, nips at the adorable curve of Yunho’s pink bottom lip before backing away.

“Please show me. My imagination isn’t as good as seeing the real thing.”

Yunho sucks in another tight breath and sighs out, “Fine.” Hongjoong has only a handful of seconds to feel triumphant until Yunho follows that up with, “Can you finger me while I do it though?”

Hongjoong chokes. He tries to cover it up with a cough but fails if Yunho falling backwards against the mattress squeaking laughter into his palms is anything to go by. “Yeah, I can-I can do that.”

Yunho finally stops laughing to smile up at him, mouth swollen from Hongjoong’s biting kisses, and gropes off to the side for the discarded pillow. “Lotion is in the side pocket.”

The lotion is a watery unscented milky white that drips from the bottle onto Hongjoong’s palm without him having to really squeeze the sides at all. “This looks like jizz. Why do you have jizzy lotion?”

When he turns back to the bed Hongjoong nearly squirts the entire tube on the floor. Yunho has made good on his promise to give him a show - boxers pulled down to rest beneath the soft fuzz of his balls and pillow clenched tight between his thighs, rutting against the edge of the stuffed cotton with the knuckle of a clenched fist shoved against his mouth.

“Oh,” Hongjoong feels as if the temperature in the room climbs several degrees. Fire crawls up the length of his spine until it circles back to burn bright and unrelenting in his groin.

Yunho lets out a heated, laughing sort of gasp. “Hyung, stop staring and come help me.” His eyes are pitch dark and ravenous when they make contact with Hongjoong’s own. “You promised.”

“I did, yeah,” Hongjoong answers, feeling punch drunk and stupid watching the slow gyration of Yunho’s hips. There’s enough room left on the bed for him to sit pressed against Yunho’s back. As punishment for starting without him - for two weeks of seemingly unending _torture_ \- Hongjoong runs the hand already wet with lotion up the length of Yunho’s leg, runs the tip of his thumb over his wrinkled sac and upwards until it catches on the rim of his hole without adding any real pressure. “Good?”

“So good,” Yunho slurs back, “Quit teasing me.”

“Who says I’m teasing you?” Hongjoong removes his thumb to pour more lotion down over the crack of Yunho’s ass just to see the indecent cascade of almost-cum run down over the puckered opening, over his balls and to the mattress. Fuck, it’s so good. Even if they never do this again, if Yunho decides this is a one time thing, Hongjoong will at least have this visual to return to when he’s sad and lonely in his studio.

Yunho cries out into his fist, shoves his hips back like he’s trying to find Hongjoong’s hand. “Hyung, I’m being so good! Please, please, _please_ -”

He quiets Yunho’s desperate heaving little sobs with a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. Hongjoong leans away to spread Yunho open enough so he can watch when he rubs the length of his ring finger over the fluttering clench once, twice, before sliding in almost sinfully easily. Yunho is so open and ready and willing, Hongjoong has to scrape his teeth over the top notch of Yunho’s spine to keep himself from losing it immediately. 

“Keep talking to me,” Yunho gasps, rutting harder against the pillow held tight against his front. “Your voice is so -” He chokes, a ragged hitch of breath that sounds punched out of him when Hongjoong rubs the tip of another wet finger teasingly against his rim.

“So what?” He slides the first finger out almost to the tip before fucking back in with a sharp flick of his wrist. “Use your words, baby.”

“You’re gonna make fun of me,” Yunho moans, hole clenching tight against the intrusion. Hongjoong pulls out again. “Hyung, stop taking it out! Do you want me to die?”

Hongjoong slides his mouth along the edge of Yunho’s jaw to feel the barely there rasp of stubble against his tongue. “What I want is to watch you come,” He pauses to bark a short laugh and circle his fingers against the hot furl of Yunho’s hole again. “Though I guess the French do call it the little death so you get partial credit.”

Yunho moans, whether from the pleasure or the terrible joke Hongjoong isn’t sure but he slips two fingers in slow, slow, slow to keep things going.

“What do you think about when you do this alone?”

“My dick mostly,” Yunho breaks off to mewl high pitched, the drag of his dick against the pillow apparently hitting him just right if the undulations around Hongjoong’s fingers mean anything. “ _You_ , sometimes.”

“Knew that much,” Hongjoong's wrist aches. He pauses the movement of his hand to watch Yunho fuck himself back against them, mesmerized. “You said my name once after our first flight.” Hongjoong crooks his fingers, gently probing. Yunho makes a noise like he’s dying and kicks his hips faster against the pillow, balls drawing up tight against his body, “What else?”

“I don’t- I dunno. Maybe the last porn I watched or,” Yunho groans when Hongjoong presses his other hand against the base of Yunho’s spine to force him to put more pressure between himself and the pillow. “Or imagining what it would be like for you to fuck me in your _stupid cramped studio_.”

“My studio is not _stupid_ ,” Hongjoong growls low into Yunho’s ear, punctuates the statement with a cruel twist of his fingers just to hear Yunho sob incoherently into the comforter and smirks as his dongsaeng’s hips grate into the silk soft touch of the pillow frantically trying to chase any amount of friction against his weeping cock. _Cute_.

Yunho’s hips are starting to kick up high enough that Hongjoong knows he’s trying to work more with the fingers in his ass than the pillow against his dick and is not having it. He’s been so haunted by the visual of Yunho grinding one out against the hotel accommodations that he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to see it happen now. Hongjoong sucks his teeth, removes his fingers from Yunho’s contracting opening to grab his hips and force them against the cotton. “Hyung!”

“Wanna see you make a mess of this pillow for myself, Yunho-yah. Can you do that for hyung?”

“I can j-just _please_ your fingers,” Yunho reaches back to grab at Hongjoong’s arm.

Hongjoong coos and doesn’t immediately slip his fingers back inside, opts instead to rub his thumb into the slick smooth space just underneath the slow throb of Yunho's opening. “Please my fingers what?” He coaxes.

Yunho wriggles like a fish on a line, whining as if he's on the verge of tears. His face is deep tomato red when he turns enough to plead, “Please, I want your fingers in me if you’re not going to fuck me, hyung-ah.”

“Good boy,” Hongjoong smiles back at him, leans down to suck Yunho’s tongue into his mouth and tangle them together. The lotion is still wet enough that he can slip his thumb back in to gape Yunho open against the cool air of the room. “Maybe next time I'll use my mouth. You’d like that wouldn’t you mh? Want me to tonguefuck you while you ride another pillow,” He leans back to run his tongue over the globe of one cheek, more to feel the shift of muscles against his mouth than anything else.

Yunho starts laughing, “God,” he sucks in a tense breath between the clench of his teeth, shaking like a leaf from the impending orgasm. “I like you so much, Hongjoong.”

“I like you too,” Hongjoong leaves a stinging mark somewhere near Yunho’s ribs on his way to whisper, “I really want to see you come.” Hongjoong wastes no time, removes his thumb so he can tuck two fingers back into Yunho’s heat and presses the quivering thighs beneath his legs harder against the bed. “Come for hyung, Yunho.”

Yunho slurs a wet drawn out “oh fuuuuuuuck” and Hongjoong feels the undulating wave against his fingers when he finally, _finally_ finds release. His own groin pulses from the blissed out noises falling from Yunho’s mouth. He keeps his fingers pumping just slightly, too enamored with the heat of Yunho’s body to want to stop until Yunho slaps at his thigh from the overstimulation.

Hongjoong pulls him up and away to the other bed so they spoon together, far from the giant wet spot and the soiled pillow, while the last of Yunho’s tremors work their way out of his system. He’s really going to have to come up with a good excuse when the managers get the itemized bill for this place. Lotion mishap? Whoops maybe we just spilled a milk drink and forgot about it?

Hongjoong grimaces.

Maybe they’ll get lucky and no one will notice.

“Hey, hyung?”

Hongjoong pauses running his fingers up and down Yunho’s arm wrapped around his waist. “Hmm?”

“I think we should go on a date.”

He doesn’t mean to but Hongjoong bursts out laughing. “I think you should suck my dick.”

Yunho scoots close enough to prop his face up with a hand on Hongjoong’s chest. “Do you want me to?”

“I,” Hongjoong stares, laughter abruptly dying in his chest. “Do you?”

Stupid question. Yunho’s eyes are still dark as pitch when he leans close to husk out, “Yes.”

He still doesn’t _do_ anything though, so Hongjoong brings his clean hand up to rub at Yunho’s swollen, kiss bitten lips. “Yeah, we can go on a date.”

“Good,” Yunho backs away, face unbearably smug, and dances the tips of his fingers down over the still angry tent in Hongjoong’s shorts. “Want to take care of this in the shower so you can cum on my face?”

He decides not to get angry at Yunho smirking when Hongjoong’s dick fucking _twitches_.

“I would like that a lot actually.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> (Hongjoong accidentally gets cum up Yunho's nose.)
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/AerClassic/)   
> <3


End file.
